it I snatch your crown witcha head still attatched to it Canibus is the type who'll fight for mics Beatin niggaz to death and beatin dead niggaz to
the end is nowhere near The end is nowhere near Bring on the dead, we will see victory Earth soaked in red, fight through the sunrise Bring on the dead
the dead A result of dysfunction Chorus: As of now I am a tool Of servere impact Hammer down Cause and effect And create a new world Pound, drive, swing
mend Rather it lay cold and dead than revealed in all it's necrotic splendour In days of revolt I too would carry a torch and swing at my arrows But
the Devil's swing Whoa, it doesn't mean a God damn thing until your deep inside dancing to the Devil's swing. Whoa, dancing, dancing to the Devil's swing
ride on these bitches. [Tha Producer: chorus] That’s when we ride on bitches, you fucking faggot snitches, so don’t you try, we’re packin` 9’s, we leave you dead
the crap up Out my city Now the whole block look shitty Put his dick on a wood block Swing swing swing, and chop chop chop Now who’s the next to nut Color
The whole town saw in awe as you strangle A noose on your neck, and you dangle From side to side in the blazing heat You’re beat, you’re dead, the fools
Talkin' all loud (yeah), blunt in my mouth (yeah) Bitch I got fifty cents on this genesis Talkin' 'bout niggaz got to vacate the premises (She's dead
made us only to take what they gave us The game is our loss watch yo gloat Then show you that this world ain't yours push crack like swinging doors And
see my C-L 6, They wanna frisk me And young with this dough I get they wanna twist me You love Mr., hi oh now you wanna kiss me But dead or me doin a
All the goose step girlies with the cursive faces We know it's all Braile beneath their skirts I'm bulletproof bizzop and swing heil and I don't really
-lethal steel. I grin while you writhe with the pain that I deal. Swinging the hammer, I hack through their heads, Deviant defilers, you're next to be dead
caused No need for confession Now you wish you had a gun to stop the demolition Swinging the judgement hammer Man, woman, child no-one is safe The heads of the dead
) But nobody cares if you're losing yourself... Am I losing myself?! Well, I miss my mom, Will they give me the chair, Or lethal injection, Or swing
Stuck between the do or die, I feel emaciated. Hard to breathe I try and try, I’ll get asphyxiated. Swinging from the tallest height, with nothing left
me slyly Another festive compromise But I live with desertion And eight million people Distant noises Other voices Pulsing in my swinging arms Caress the sound So many dead
's washed out they pass the bottle around and wait in the arms of the cold cold ground cold cold ground there's a ribbon in the willow and a tire swing